Written in the Stars
by JVM-SP150
Summary: Co-written with NoseBridgePinch - big thanks to AnonPaul for cover!; on permanent hiatus and unlikely to be continued in the near future but we're looking into things
1. Arrival

_Author's Note: _First off, a big, big, big thanks to my amazing co-writer and friend **Joo Hor**. If you haven't read her South Park stuff, you're serirously missing out. Go check her profile. Now dammit. She was a big help getting this idea off ground.

The primary inspiration for this story was a topic at the South Park Studios official message board called "Stan and Wendy in Season 15" which generally came down to the majority of the board being against Stan and Wendy as a couple for a wide variety of reasons, but the most oft-cited being they were clearly just in "puppy love". The idea of this fic was quite simply to portray the characters rebuilding that same relationship decades later.

_"Their love is written in the stars, but the world conspires to keep them apart..." - Matt Stone_

**Written in the Stars**

**Chapter One**

_by Amanda and John_

It was a cold October evening, and snow was pouring down the homes and hills of South Park, Colorado quite hard. A blanket of white was covering nearly everything, from the cars to the homes to the sidewalk to the street. It was a winter wonderland. The wind was strong, however, making it a bit of a hassle for one to leave the home. Luckily it was past dinnertime, so most citizens were content to relax in their homes.

She would think the place she grew up in covered in powder would be a beautiful sight if the heater on her car wasn't broken. She drove around the streets, passing her old childhood home, now vacant. It wasn't the house she was looking for though, she turned east and headed towards Bonaza Street.

Stan Marsh was sitting alone at his kitchen table eating dinner - he had a rough game with the kids that afternoon and they'd barely pulled through against the kids from Middle Park. He had rather harsh features, with well-maintained black hair spilling over his face and simple dark blue eyes. He was currently wearing a red T-shirt with a brown jacket over it as he took another bite of his pre-cooked meal.

Stan chewed the stale, pre made frozen burger. It would taste a lot better if he had sliced cheese to put on top of it, but alas it was hard times for the dairy industry. He was inturrupted by Shane, an old blue healer he had resuced from the pound begging at the table. He sighed and gave the dog a few french fries off his plate, cursing himself for spoiling that dog so he could never eat in peace. Stan hadn't eaten in peace at his home in a long time, or with another actaul person come to think of it.

He was inturrupted by the door bell ringing, old Shane along with the other dogs he had started causing a racket. Stan tried to shush the dog as he made his way to the front door. He opened the door to see a girl his age on the front step, standing there and looking down with those unforgettable green eyes he recocgnized instantly. She had black hair down past her shoulders - in his memory it had been silky, but now it was unekpt and wild, the pink beret atop her head dirty and old. Her face had either a stain or a bruise on it, and she had a large trenchcoat on, arms hugging her body as the snow poured. She looked as if ready to cry. "W-Wendy?" he said in disbelief.

"Hi Stan... it's... been a long time, I know..." she said quietly, her usually confident voice shaking as she trembled.

Stan's stomach turned at the sight of her, it took him a second to regain his composure. "Wendy, what happened? What are you doing here? Please come in! It must be below freezing." Stan took her by the hand and led her in, shutting the door behind her. He put his arm around her as he walked her into the living room and sat her down on his couch. "Should I make a fire?" Stan pointed to the newly installed wood fireplace in one corner of the room.

"You don't have to..." Wendy mumbled under her breath, still shivering as she entered the house, "I'm really sorry to bother you, I'm sure you're busy... it's just... I have no one else to turn to." she explained, "I've become a social pariah, Stan, and now I have nowhere to go. I don't even know where Bebe is and I don't even have the money to go to Florida to see my parents and... you're the only other person I've ever really trusted..."

"It's no trouble really, and it'll warm you up." Tyler, a golden retriever Stan had also rescued came up to the couch, sniffing at the new visitor. "Fuck off." Stan tried to push the dog away. Soon the four dogs Stan owned were all at the couch, sniffing and begging Wendy for attention. "Sorry, do you want me to put the dogs in another room?" Stan tried to shoo the dogs away as he got up towards the fireplace but Wendy pulled him close into a tight hug, starting to sob into his tshirt. Stan stayed in place, carefully putting his arms around her. "I'm sorry, I won't let go until you're ready to."

After a moment or so of simply holding on to Stan and bawling her eyess out, Wendy regained her composure and relaxed her grip on him, "Stan, do you remember the dairy tax that got voted on a few weeks ago?" she asked simply, her hands tightly hooking together as her eyes avoided his in fear of his possible reaction. Gone was Wendy's trademark confidence - no, she was in fear, deep fear.

What an odd thing to be talking about right now. "Yeah?" Stan said carefully, confused by her fearful expression. "Wendy, please tell me whats wrong." His hand went to touch the dark mark on her cheek. "Is that a bruise?"

"It was my idea." Wendy said quietly, sighing again, her voice quivering, "It was all my idea. It seemed so simple - everyone in Colorado lives off dairy. A tax on it would bring in revenue and it could to towards the state deficit... I was so confident in my political abilities I never really stopped and thought it could backfire..." she sighed, "They hate me. Everyone in Colorado hates me now..." as if only now just hearing his question she looked to him, "This?" she put her finger to it, "No, it's nothing..."

Stan licked his thumb and touched the mark, smearing it. "Oh it's just dirt, thank god. I don't know what I would had done if you were actaully hurt." Wendy swatted his hand away and looked down. "The dairy tax? I hear everyone bitching about it, especally my dad but I never stopped to think about it. Mostly I just stopped buying dairy products. That was your idea?" Wendy's bottom lip quivered and her eyes filled with tears, Stan held her by the shoulders. "Wendy, look at me. Not everyone in Colorado hates you, you have me. It'll be okay."

"You're so sweet, Stan. You've always been..." Wendy smiled a bit, "I won't be here long, I promise, I just need somewhere to stay until I have the money to reach Florida. Then I'll get out of here." she explained, her confidence slowly returning, "I'm sorry, I've spent this whole time just talking about me, it's not fair at all. Tell me how you are Stan! It's been... ten years now?" she said, smile wavering a bit - it felt impossible to think she hadn't been around him, or this town, in such a long time.

"Yeah of course, stay as long as you need to. I could even give you the money if you need to leave the state. I have a guest room, it's my old bedroom actually." Stan got up to move towards the fire place, but he stopped and turned. "Wendy, how did you know where I lived? I mean, I lived here until I was ten but how did you know I bought my parent's old house?"

"...funny you mention that, Stan..." Wendy said, "I... I'm not really sure myself. I just drove by here and... I don't know, something told me you were here..." she said, her fingers intertwining themselves together as her green eyes became increasingly focused on the floor rather than Stan. "Somthing told me this was the place."

"But why..." Stan stopped, he was about to ask why him, especally after all that time. He didn't want to really know the answer though, it was obviously because there was no one better left in town... In the ten years since he and all his freinds graduated and left for college. "I bet you're hungry. Do you want me to make you something? Do you have a suit case? I can go get it from your car."

"Thank you, Stan, I'd rather not trouble you, but I know you'll be nice and make me something anyway." Wendy said, smiling a little - he hadn't truly changed much. He was still empathic and kind despite the people around him, "I'll get my stuff out of the car... I've... it's not so nice in there right now, just let me take care of it." she offered, getting up and stretching.

There she was, giving a small glimpse of her vulnerabliity, then shutting him out and back to business as usual. He shouldn't fall back into old habits of overly trying to please her but it just came naturally. "What do you want to eat? I'll make you anything you want, well of what ingredents I have in the house."

"Anything's fine, Stan, whatever you have." Wendy explained with a small smile, as she moved towards the door to go collect her items from the car. It felt like such a load off her mind Stan was letting her stay, as if suddenly all of her troubles were gone, though she knew there was still a lot of work to be done. But it was nice being back in her hometown, and with someone she trusted. She reached for the doorknob, "Stan?"

Stan was shooing the dogs up the stairs to where they slept, Shelly's old bedroom. He turned around and looked at her from the stairs. "Yes Wendy?"

"Thank you." Wendy smiled for a moment, then opened the door and walked outside toward her car.

**To Be Continued...**


	2. Dairy

_Author's Note: _Co-written with **Joo Hor **and **Mad_Cow5678**. If you haven't read their South Park stuff, you're serirously missing out. Go check their profiles!

_"Their love is written in the stars, but the world conspires to keep them apart..." - Matt Stone_

**Written in the Stars**

**Chapter Two**

_by Amanda, Rachel and John_

Stan had gotten to work making another hamburger for Wendy after sending her upstairs to take a much needed shower. When he heard the stop of water coming from the guest bathroom he went upstairs, plate in hand to check on her. He found Wendy in some ratty PJ's, the same pink ones she had from when he knew her in high school, passed out on top of the twin sized bed in the guest room. He sighed and placed the plate on the dresser for later, tucking her in with an old blanket his mother had knitted and making sure to turn up the heater a few degrees higher for the night. As he got ready for bed the image of her face was burned into his mind, she had looked so fragile, like she hadn't gotten any sleep lately.

Wendy had fallen asleep practically as soon as she'd found the bed, and it wasn't long before her mind set her off to dream. Wendy was always one to look into the meanings of dreams - what did this mean, that mean. She tried to understand the mysticism. This dream was simple and upfront - the denizens of her hometown surrounded her dressed in sheets, holding torches and... gallons of milk. Two of the citizens took her arms and began carrying her somewhere. She tried to kick and struggle - but resistance was futile. She was dragged across the ground until they reached a large wooden stake. Another man came forward with rope, the other two holding Wendy to the stake as she was tied to it. The next thing she saw two men stepped forward with their gallons of milk and tossed it on her.

"Wendy Testaburger, for single-handedly ruining Colorado's dairy industry with your political greed and selfishness we sentence you to death! How do you plead?"

"Not guilty! I was trying to help the citizens of this state, not hurt them! If you just let me explain-" Wendy pleaded.

"No excuses - let her have it!" A long line of people appeared as they started tossing milk onto Wendy's face and body. In reality milk was mild and cold but this milk felt hot and acidic, scalding Wendy's skin. Wendy reached out to fight back, punching and kicking, struggling to get free and suddenly her eyes flew open as she pushed away a pair of hands on her shoulders. It was dark and Stan sat at the edge of her bed, a concerned look on his face rubbing his shoulder.

"Are you okay?" Stan asked quietly as he looked at her, "What happened?" It felt like a stupid question - he knew what happened. She had a nightmare. But somehow it still felt important to ask the question, despite knowing the answer. Wendy slowly sat up and looked at Stan, biting her lip,

"I'm sorry Stan, I didn't mean to wake you... I just had a bad dream is all..." she said, holding the blanket close to herself in embarrassment, "I just... " It was hard for her to hold back, "The milk tax. The citizens revolted against me. I was bolted up and some weird acidic milk was being tossed at me... I could feel my skin and bones slowly dissolve... I'm sorry, you don't want to hear this, do you?" The Wendy Stan had known as a child would have continue her story and drilled it into his head. She would have been confident and brass. But the Wendy before him was quiet and vulnerable. "You better get back to bed. You have work in the morning, right?"

Stan shrugged. "I'm here for you if you need it, tomorrow's a Thursday anyway, its my slowest day at work unless there's an emergency. If you need to talk about it I'll stay." Stan slid closer to Wendy on the bed until they were side by side, her still under the blanket, him on top. "The milk tax has got you really worried hasn't it?" Great Stan being obvious again. "Um, I'll stay until you fall back to sleep again if you want."

"Thanks Stan." Wendy said, "I just... I was trying too help everyone. The town's debt is getting too much to handle, you know? I needed to do something and it seemed like a good solution..." she sighed, "I'm sorry. You don't want to hear this... let's just try to sleep." she said, laying her head back down on the pillow. She covered her body from the neck down tightly in the blankets, feeling snug and warm, trying to push out all of the thoughts of angry taxpayers and milk, "I'm sorry, do you want any blanket, Stan?" she offered.

"Thanks, are you comfortable?" Stan crawled under the blanket and shut off the side table lamp again."And I don't mind hearing it. Getting the creator of the milk tax's point of view. I still don't think everyone hates you, people think they're fighting back by boycotting it but it's really just been a minor inconvenience. The worst is when someone brings in dairy cows into the office, I have to hear about how they're not getting any business. But I doubt they'd lynch you over it. It seems really unfair for your superiors to kick you out of office and let the tax continue though."

"I appreciate your support, Stan." Wendy said, hugging the pillow close, eyes unfocused and constantly surveying the room, "I really let people down though. Even aside everything else, I let everyone down." she said, and then as if only just now realizing what he said, she sat up slightly, "They shouldn't do that! You're a vet, why should they complain to you about it? Ugh." she let herself crash down into the bed again, "I don't want to talk about it anymore. I just want to forget it ever happened. Just forget... thanks for everything, Stan." she said again, not looking at him, too embarrassed by the circumstances, not to mention being tired.

"I'm the only veterinarian in a small redneck town Wendy, I deal with a lot of farm animals and farmers. Its part of the reason I still live in South Park they needed a vet and one who won't put every other animal to sleep that comes in. This town needed me and Colorado needed you, Wendy. If only to be a scape goat. They fired you yet kept the tax so obviously your idea is still being used in some way." Stan reached over and patted Wendy on the back.

"You know, you're right, Stan. You always knew how to put things into perspective." Wendy smiled slightly - it was true. When she tried to explain things to people they didn't usually care or understand - but when there was an issue concerning the town, Stan and Kyle would pitch in a long, touching speech and everyone would understand and fix things. "You're smarter than I credit you." she added. He was a natural born leader, more so than her - he knew how to stir and keep people's attention and how to make complex things make sense to them.

Stan saw the curve of her cheek in the moonlight. He hid a small smile himself knowing he had gotten through to her, helped her feel better in the smallest way. But his smile disappeared at her other remark. Smarter than he credits him? It was like that again wasn't it. Suddenly he felt like they were a kids again. Pretending not to give a crap about each other. Made since he was about to sleep in his old bedroom. Stan rolled over so his back was facing her. "Anyway enough of that, let's talk about something else. The nineteenth is Friday . Do you remember why that day is important to me?"

"Your birthday." she said quickly, "It was the 19th, right? No, it was the 20th... no, it had to be the 19th." she corrected herself, "Wow, I didn't even realize it was coming up so soon... what are your plans?" she asked. Stan never seemed to keep her around for his birthday. Even that legendary tenth birthday party she had missed and ended up spending alone at home researching for a science paper.

"Yep. I'm going to be twenty eight. I already told everyone not to do anything on the actual day since I've had messed up birthdays pretty much since I turned nine. You remember Butters from high school right? He insisted on taking me out on my lunch break but after work I was just planning on visiting my mom and step dad. But I could cancel those plans and do something with you instead. If you wanted to." Stan turned around hopefully to see Wendy had shut her eyes and her breathing was regular. She had fallen asleep, had she heard that last thing he said? Probably not. Stan quietly started to slide out of the bed but Wendy's hand shot out from under the blanket, wrapping around his waist and he froze in place. Maybe she had heard after all.

xXx

Wendy was a light sleeper, so hearing Stan's 7am alarm, despite it being in the other room, woke her straight up. She decided not to wake Stan up and found her bag on the floor and took out her toothbrush and toothpaste and brushed her teeth. Stan's bathroom hadn't changed a bit. She looked at herself in the mirror - she looked terrible. She needed a good shower, to brush her hair, not to mention a lot of makeup. Ugh. Stan must think she looks disgusting. She sighed, brushed her teeth and took Stan's comb to take care of her hair. It was a hassle but she got it to look okay, if not to her satisfaction. Finally she left the bathroom and went to the kitchen - maybe she could make Stan breakfast to repay him for letting her stay there?

For sleeping on a second had bed he had gotten at a thrift store Stan could honestly not remember the last time he had slept so well. He stretched lazily in bed not quite ready to open his eyes yet and reached over to Wendy's side, if she was so into cuddling these days to say good morning. His hands felt nothing but blankets and pillows.

Dammit. Stan finally opened his eyes and sat up in bed, for a split second contemplating calling into work to spend extra time with Wendy. But no, the office needed him. He got up and shuffled over to the bathroom, grabbing his red tooth brush from the holder on the sink, noticing the addition of a purple one next to his. Don't get your hopes up Stanley.

He flicked on the bathroom lights and looked at himself in the mirror, noticing something worse. "What the fuck is up with my face?" Stan examined the sore appearing on his cheek, noticing another one on the back of his left hand. He knew not to poke at the sores or that gross white crap would come out again. He ate meat every day, and enjoyed it. What could possibly be causing him to break out in Vaginitus again? The fact he had slept next to Wendy all night and had only slept? Stan was embarrassed but headed downstairs to ask Wendy what the hell he should do.

Wendy stood in the kitchen over burnt toast and half-cooked waffles with tap water in milk glasses - dammit , she used to be a good cook! How could she screw this up? She sighed and put butter on the remains of the toast and waited for Stan to arrive, disappointed in herself. She was falling apart. It felt like she was losing all the knowledge she had, but she knew that was bullshit - it was her mojo or whatever they call it. She heard footsteps and turned.

Stan walked into the kitchen and had to crack a small smile. He went over and set the toaster to "medium" instead of "high" Wendy looked frazzled but Stan pulled her into a hug with his non vagina sore-d arm. "You cooked, how sweet. You mind if I add something to this feast?" He went to the cabinet pulling out his largest frying pan and pulling out bacon, sausage links and ham and setting it to cook.

"Oh, I can't resist bacon..." Wendy admitted, "I just figured I could make up for you staying in your house by being a little useful. I kinda screwed up I know... but hey, I'll do better tomorrow. I promise." going quickly from low self-esteem to complete confidence again, her mood still erratic, "Any other chores you need done? I'd love to help out, you know, earn my stay around her." Wendy didn't like the idea of staying with someone, but more importantly, she hated the idea of moving in and not doing her fair share of work in return.

"It looks delicious really." Stan grabbed a slice of toast that had just popped up from the toaster and smeared some of the small amount of butter he had left in the house, smiling as he took a bite. "You don't have to do that much but if you insist on helping go let the dogs outside, I'll stay here and finish cooking. I guess I can start making eggs or something. I remember you liked them over medium when we were kids right?"

"These days I take egg whites only scrambled but maybe my old favorite would be best right now. Thanks...again. I'll go get the dogs now." A slight blush colored Wendy's cheeks as she quickly left. Stan shrugged but went into the fridge pulling out a carton of eggs, she hadn't said anything about the sore on his face. He took another bite of his toast and looked at the back of his hand noticng the sore healing at a rapid rate. Stan examined his piece of half burned toast. When was the last time he had any dairy?

The dogs rushed in and ran to Stan, gathering around him watching intently for crumbs to fall they could eat up. Animals always seemed to be hungry. Wendy rolled her eyes and called them over by the door. Nothing. She sighed, went to the counter, "Stan, where are the dog biscuits?" Stan pointed to one of the cabinets and Wendy took out a millk bone. That got the dogs' attention. Wendy ran to the back door and tossed the treat into the yard, the dogs running after them, and her closing the door behind them, "Taken care of." she smiled.

"Good job, smart of you. Its my own damn fault for spoiling my dogs that they never really listen when given a command." Stan flipped the bacon and sausage he was cooking and grabbed another piece of toast, slathering an even larger amount of butter on it, carefully watching the back of his hand as he ate. Wendy started opening and closing cabinets until she found a bag of ground Tweek Bros Brand coffee.

"Stan, why do you have four dogs? It seems a bit much." Stan grabbed two coffee mugs and handed them over to where Wendy was making coffee.

"They've all been abandoned or mistreated in some way from my work. I guess I grew attached to each dog so I ended up keeping them until I could find homes for them. I house all kinds of dogs, I'm just running out of people willing to adopt."

"Its a shame." Wendy shook her head sympathetically as she got the coffee brewing. Stan finished off his toast and sighed.

"Do you mind taking over the cooking Wendy? I have to run to the store really fast. Do you want anything?"

"I could burn it again..." she mumbled, "I'll try Stan, I'm sure I'll do fine." there was the confident Wendy Stan knew. "Good luck at the store." she nodded with a confident smile. Inside, she was still the same insecure girl, unfortunately.

"You'll do fine Wendy, it's just bacon. It's not that difficult to screw up." Stan cracked a smile at her as he grabbed his coat and car keys. "And hey Wendy, this might not mean much but you'll still always be the same Wendy I always knew, through your ups and downs of your career. you're intelligent enough to take action and see it though correctly to the end, and if things end up messy, I'll be here to help." Stan considered giving her another hug, but didn't want her to catch sight of the sore on his hand or cheek. He quickly left out the front door, first to cure his allergy but also to come back with something that will hopefully make her smile for more than five minutes. Would flowers be too forward, not to mention cheesy?

"Thanks Stan." Wendy said quietly as Stan left, touched. It wasn't often she received a compliment - and that was definitely the nicest thing anyone'd ever said to her. Stan always had a way with words, always knew how to make her feel better. She sighed, wondering silently what had gone wrong between the two... she sighed and pushed the sad thought away trying to focus on Stan. Why did he always go so out of his way to make her happy? She checked the bacon quickly - phew. It was fine... so far.

xXx

When Stan was nine years old, he'd made a point to support local businesses after destroying the town's Wal-Mart, high prices or not. He entered Jim's Drug, approaching the dairy section and gawking at the prices - a carton of milk was nearly seven dollars, a gallon twelve. He hadn't been paying attention and realized just how carried away Wendy's fellow politicians had gotten with the milk tax. He didn't even realize he'd been approached, "It's a shame, Dr. Marsh, them greedy politicians think they can tax whatever they want and the dumb consumers'll stay quiet and pay whatever they ask."

Stan sighed, "Hi Mr. Weathers, how are you?" An aged, gray-haired Darryl Weathers ignored Stan's greeting and continued the rant in his same hick-accented voice,

"Those big-wig fat cats don't give a damn about us decent hardworking folk. I miss my goddamn milk! The stupid bitch senator who screwed everything up resigned and prices have only gone up... using the profits for their own gain..." Weathers' rant descended into mumbling.

"That's not true, they're using that money to lower the budget deficit. How long have you been on unemployment?" Stan asked.

"I wouldn't have been on unemployment so long in my years workin' if they didn't keep takin' my jerb! They took away all the dairy farmers jobs as well!" Weathers stopped his cart nearby and began picking up vegetables.

"They tooker jerbs!" came Farmer Carl Denkins as he passed by, the same farmer Stan not-so-fondly remembered as reporting UFO's, selling turkeys, and selling veal - as well as being a victim of the dreaded Chickenlover, and most infamously, shooting Jack Tenorman and his wife for trespassing.

"If they didn't keep screwing things up over in Denver, I'd have a much sweeter retirement. Watch out Dr. Mars,h your job might be next." Weathers warned.

"I'll keep that in mind." Stan said through clenched teeth as he loaded up the shopping cart with every dairy product the store carried.

"Taxing the cigarettes and the milk, what's next? Suckin' the life blood out of us, lousy politicians. Fuckin' Testaburger promised change... when's it comin'?" Stan rolled his eyes and pushed his cart to escape the crazy redneck. If only Weathers knew that supposed politician was staying at his house and feeling so depressed over the issue. It was true - the average Colorado citizen hated Wendy - the faster she left, the better. Stan mentally told himself off - he didn't want Wendy's nightmare to come true. He realized he had entered the party favor section - though he was hesitant to grab flowers he had an idea of something to cheer her up and get her mind off the situation.

"The total will be $104.28 sir." The blonde female cashier at Jim's Drug said. Stan sighed and handed over his credit card. "I think it's so great, Doctor..." The cashier looked at the name on the card. "Marsh, supporting the dairy industry like this."

"Oh it's okay, I really needed it. All this stuff in fact."

"Yeah the average person really needs six gallons of milk at once, and mini sizes as well. It's so caring." The cashier leaned over and fluttered her eyelashes as she rang up his purchases, her voice becoming a bit more confident, "Is there a Mrs. Marsh?" Oh jeez, this girl had to had been still in high school or a college freshman at the best.

'No there isn't, not yet anyway..." Stan admitted quietly, a hint of regret in his voice.

"Shame. Girlfriend?" Stan hesitated, a part of him wanting to say 'the same girl since third grade' but that would be a lie, plus he didn't want to piss off Wendy in any way.

"Um...no. Not really..."

The cashier gave Stan a huge smile and fluffed her blonde hair. "Awesome. You know, I was thinking of dying my hair, what do you think Dr. Marsh? Do you prefer blondes or redheads?" she asked slyly.

"Actually I've always been kind of a sucker for brunettes. I better get going, see you." Stan grabbed his shopping bags in a hurry to get out of there, making sure never to shop there when that girl was around. He peeked into the one bag that didn't hold any dairy products, he was missing one crucial thing. He was going to be late to work anyway, might as well get what he needed. Stan grabbed from of the bags a small container of chocolate milk, something he couldn't remember drinking since elementary school, feeling more and more like a kid and headed over to the toy store.

The toy shop didn't normally open until 8:00am but Stan had special permission, or rather he knew the owner and he was easily persuaded. He pounded on the door of the shop. "Dude, it's Stan, let me in, I need something. Come on, Butters."

Butters awoke with a start at the sound of the banging. Oh hamburgers-7:30! He should've been awake an hour ago! He'd never normally oversleep like this: Mom 'n' Dad would kill him if they heard he was letting business slack but that delivery of Slutz dolls (complete with dance pole, losable underwear and fake ID) had arrived so goshdarn late...Oh, those companies steamed his waffles sometimes! Not that he was complaining of course. It was still his stupid fault for oversleeping.

Quickly shoving on his pants and a clean shirt, Butters ran downstairs, pulling on socks and tie on his way down. Oh golly, what if it was a customer? They might be angry that he wasn't open. Oh wait, he knew that voice! He jumped the last few steps, nearly tripping over his cat in his haste and pulled the door open,

"Why, it's Stan! Well, G'mornin' t'ya, Stan-w-what can I d-do for y'?"

Stan pushed himself into the store, noting Butters' rumpled appearance. "You were sleeping in your office again weren't you? Anyway I'm planning a gift for...a friend and I need a little toy cruise ship to complete it. You have those don't you?"

"T-toy cruise ship?"

Well, just why the Sam Hill would Stan want one of those? The few times Stan did come by the store were usually to pick up a toy for his dogs or to see if Butters would be willing to give a stray animal a good home, not generally to buy something like that.

"Well, I-I ain't really sure what we g-got Stan," Sunny meandered into the room, cross-eyed as ever. He picked up the fluffy, yellow cat and hugged her to him. She was getting big now. He'd have to get Stan to schedule him an appointment to get up to date with vaccinations some time... "But we can take a look 'n' s-see. Who knows, maybe we'll be cruisin' f-fer success" He giggled. He cracked himself up sometimes. He headed back into the aisles of the shop, still holding the cat and scanned the shelves, picking up items that seemed likely, "W-Well, Stan, we got a Lego one, that's $13.95 which looks pretty neato. O-or there's Barbie's dream boat, which is pretty nice. Why, it even comes with a built-in hot tub! There's the H-Hello K-k-kitty one, o'course, but the cats kinda like that one-S-Sunny, don't scratch it, girl-or there's this really nice li'l wooden one?"

Ugh, Butters could be so annoying at times, he probably had to have something wrong with him to be that goddamn optimistic all the time. Stan was a bit sad out of all his old friends it had to be Butters who stuck around. But Stan had to be nice, he and Butters stuck together no matter what. The only other people each of them had was their families, and Butters' parents were way more insane than Stan's were. Well maybe their dads could have a contest to something.

"This wooden one is perfect, it's almost a scale replica of a real one." Stan picked up the box and looked it over. "29.99$ What the hell? Is it a collectible or something?"

"Y-yeah, I reckon so. A-actually, old Mr Marcus over at the model store had one left over an' asked me if I wanted one fer helpin' him out with that ol' termite problem he was having last month. Mean ta be $200."

Butters did feel slightly guilty for charging so much for it. It was a really nice model and all but...Stan was his buddy. They stuck together no matter what. And Stan had done a lot for him, what with getting all the pets, and that one time when Stan'd covered for him to his parents while Butters was meeting Lexus for afternoon tea...which'd somehow morphed into a visit to Peppermint Hippo. His parents would totally kill him if they found out.

"T-tell y' what, Stan. Why don't y' just take it now an-and pay me back...when y'can afford it, huh?"

Stan sighed as he looked at the toy cruise ship, it was a perfect replica of what he remembered. Originally 200$? "Butters you have to stop doing that, letting people take advantage of you. You know I'll pay you back but how often do you do that with all your other customers? How do you stay in business doing stuff like that? I'll take it though, the sticker price right?"

Stan headed towards the register, ready to use his credit card again. "Do you have any gift wrap options? Would you also wrap some other stuff I bought in a huge box?"

Butters shuffled his feet uneasily. It was true he probably gave discounts more than he oughta...like the other day when Kevin McCormick had come in, why he'd looked so stressed and unhappy when he found he'd left his wallet at home that Butters hadn't the heart to make him put all the stuff back. It was for the kids after all. "I-I uh, don't let people off so easy all the time. Just...just f-fer friends, like".

He made his way over to the counter, and rummaged around the shelves underneath, until he found the biggest box he had, which contained, he found, as he set it down on the countertop, Bubbles the hamster. Oh good, he'd wondered where she'd gotten to. Although where the other five, newly born hamsters beside her had come from, he'd no idea.

"This big enough, Stan?"

Stan cocked an eyebrow at the box. "I'm not sure if We- if my friend would like a gift in a giant Easy Bake Oven box. But if you have nothing else I'm sure it will do."

Stan placed the cruise ship on the counter along with his other bag of supplies, picking up the hamster and expertly looking into it's eyes and mouth. "She just had babies? Did you make an appointment to have the newborn hamsters all checked? Or would you like me to do it now while you wrap?"

Butters blushed. This wasn't making him look like the best pet owner ever. Although he did try his best, sometimes the girls just got the better of him. He hoped his parents didn't find out about this. They might try and give them to Goodwill like they had with the minions in later life.

"W-would ya, Stan? I'll uh, I'll see if I can't wrap this box up, make it look nice." He held out a few tubes of wrapping paper, "I-is purple okay?"

"Purple is absolutely perfect, one problem though. Newborn hamsters can't be moved from their birth spot for ten days and from the looks of it these babies still have their eyes closed. Just leave them in the box and make sure to give them plenty of fresh food and water. Maybe another box would be best."

Stan went to Butters' office to retrieve a box of food, filling a small dish with water as well. "I thought all your hamsters had girls names, how did this one get pregnant? there something you're not telling me about your pets?" Stan smiled as he talked, teasing Butters was just too easy at times.

"Oh, w-well, there's a doll's house box under here somewhere" Butters scrabbled around some more, accidentally banging his head on the bottom shelf, "OW! Aw, son of a biscuit!" Stupid shelves...why, he'd just go and have them taken out one of these days they didn't stop being so mean...He straightened up, holding the box in one hand while he rubbed his sore head with the other, "Well, Buttercup has b-been going through a-a tomboy stage lately...I just figured she'd grow out of it. Why just the other day, She and Bubbles were cuddl- Oh." Oh great. He had a lesbian hamster. No, bad Butters, that wasn't the right attitude. Why, if Buttercup was a lesbian, that was her right to be and he'd love her love the same.

Butters banging his head spilled a bit of the water Stan had put down. "Watch it, too much moisture is bad for new born hamsters and I'm pretty sure your Buttercup is a boy, you might have to keep HIM separate from the rest if you don't want this to happen, unless you want me to 'fix' your hamsters. You want me to start asking around if anyone wants to adopt a baby hamster?"

Butters blinked. Neuter...Buttercup? His special little girl...guy, he corrected himself. But Stan had a point, he guessed. He could probably just about manage 8 if no one wanted any of the hamsters, but if there was any more, he'd probably not be able to manage. He sighed, as he began to cover the box with the shiny, purple paper,

"Yeah, I guess. So uh, what's the occasion, Stan?"

"Nothing!" Stan had his head bent over the box taking care of the newborn hamsters but he shot up, hoping he wasn't blushing. "Just wrap it up Butters and make it look nice. I have to go to work soon and I don't want to be late." He realized he was being really obvious, usually Butters wouldn't catch on to things like that but Stan had to be sure. "Don't tell anyone about this Butters, at all. Do that and next time you visit my office I'll give you half off the price, okay?"

xXx

Wendy kept a close eye on the bacon as she flipped through the television - when the bacon was finished she quickly turned off the fire and put it on a paper towel on a plate, covering them and deciding to wait for Stan to get back - they may not be fresh but it felt rude to eat without him. She yawned and went by the window to check on the dogs in the yard and they were jumping at the door, eager to come in and get food of their own. Rolling her eyes, Wendy looked in Stan's closet where she remembered he used to keep Sparky's food and found a massive bag of Kibbles n' Bits. She found the dog bowls in the kitchen and filled each with two scoops of food - just a guess - and then walked out into Stan's yard. The dogs all jumped at her, and she quickly ran away from them and put down the bowls before running back to the porch, the dogs attacking the bowls as if they hadn't eaten in days, despite each clearly being a little on the fat side: Stan fed them well. "You guys have a great master, you know that?" she smiled.

The dogs paid no heed, just trying to eat as much as they physically could. "Stan's a really nice guy, I've always felt bad so much shit happens to him all the time, he doesn't deserve it... he just tries to be nice and people take advantage of him I guess... but it's really cool being around him again. I feel like he's changed somehow... in a really awesome way... " she smiled as Tyler and Shane stared off over the remainder of Tyler's bowl, Tyler winning and going for it while Shane laid down and crossed his paws. "It's fun to be spending time around him again and it's really nice of him to be letting me stay with him..." Wendy sighed slightly but caught what she said, "He's always been a good... friend. Sometimes I feel bad things didn't work out for us... but it's for the best."

Tyler finished and laid down by Shane, with Sparky II yawning. Wendy continued her charade, "I don't know... I mean Stan's such a great guy, maybe I should give him another chance, but... would he even want me back? After all the things I've done to him? What if he's gay or something? What if he doesn't like me because everyone hates me? ...No, Stan wouldn't be that way." Wendy sighed, "I'm sorry I'm being so insecure... I used to be so confident but after everything earlier I'm just not sure anymore... God, Wendy, get a grip on yourself, girl, this isn't Bebe, you're talking to a bunch of stray dogs taken in by your boyfriend! Ex-boyfriend... ugh. God, please, if me and Stan are meant to be, give me a sign..." she looked up as she said this, curious if the hippo-cat thing in the sky was listening.

The veterinary office opened every day at 8:00 on the dot and as Stan got home he saw the clock showed he would be at least fifteen minutes late. "Wendy I have to go to work. Come here!" Stan shoved two pieces of bacon in his mouth as he shoved his many cartons of milk into the fridge. He grabbed a carton and poured two glasses of milk. "Wendy come here please? I got you a surprise." he placed the large box on the kitchen table as he ran upstairs to grab his lab coat.

Wendy sighed, noticing the amount of milk he bought - he shouldn't have to spend so much on it, being a vet probably didn't even pay that well. Why did she seem to always make Stan's life so shitty? She noticed the box and smiled a little - he was such a sweet guy., she was lucky she dated him in the first place. They weren't even dating and he was already buying her gifts again. Man, she was lucky.

Stan didn't have time to shower - he threw on his scrubs and lab coat and ran down the stairs while still combing his hair. He caught Wendy smiling at the box. "Good that box was meant to cheer you up. I have to go but you open it and keep that smile on your face okay?" Stan grabbed another single serving of milk and faced Wendy in the kitchen. In one motion he grabbed his keys and landed a small peck on her cheek, the he left before she had time to say anything about it. A peck on the cheek was out of kindness, sisterly even. Nothing more. Stan repeated these platonic thoughts in his head as he raced to work. He had to force his face to relax, but it was so easy for his mouth to curl into a very contagious smile.

Wendy put a hand to her cheek and was overcome by a strong blush. Oh man, he had to still like her! What kind of guy kisses a girl when he doesn't like her? No, no, European guys do that all the time... she was just making a big deal out of nothing. Stan didn't still like her. The affection was purely platonic. No, that's a lie, too. She looked up, "Is that a sign?" she asked before dismissing her sillyness. God would never answer her question. She sighed and looked at the box - it was wrapped quite prettily. A part of her wished to wait until Stan was around to open it, but he did say open it... she quickly took off the wrapping paper with a bit of excitement to see a wooden cruise ship, a bottle of champagne, a flower lei, and a note:

**Dear Wendy,**

**Sit back, calm down and have a mini-vacation. You deserve it with all the shit you've been through.**

**- Stan**

A smiled crossed Wendy's lips as she put the flower lei over her head - Stan was so thoughtful! She sighed and took out the ship, closely examining it before gently placing it on the table, and finally taking out the bottle of champagne, uncapping it and taking a small sip. She opened the fridge again and frowned a little at the milk, questioning again why Stan had bought so much before looking to her champagne bottle again.

**To Be Continued...**


End file.
